I don't feel like tabbing out the slow part with the open E chord, so just listen for the timing, it's not that
hard. Also, if you don't wanna go to the 12th fret, you can do an E chord on the A string, but that's not really
accurate to the song.
E* AE (E*)
e|--12---5---0---|--7---|
B|--12---5---0---|--9---|
G|--13---6---1---|--9---|
D|--14---7---2---|--9---|
A|--14---7---2---|--7---|
E|--12---5---0---|------|
( E* - A - ) x4
E* A
Content nausea, World War Four, seems like it all came too soon
E* A
Another carnage apparatus, such a disappointing doom
E* A
I've used money, I've used drugs, Abuse body, abuse mind
E* A
People use such strange excuses, always have done, no clue why
E* A
Most folks think and some folks know, life's lived least when you don't let go
E* A
Of a memory, of a dream, like an hometown better seen
E* A
On a screen or at a distance, life lived best without resistance
E* A
People clicked and people read, 'Modern Life' is what it said
E* A
Pretty pictures, pretty lives, I peered into once or twice
E* A
I'll go back but not today, it's nice to visit but it's hard to stay
E* A
In the grips of bad dimension, too much data, too much tension
E* A
Too much plastic, too much glass, life lived least when when fears are passed
E* A
My friend he won't leave his home, says "I am a bonfire of human bones."
E* A
I am a bonfire of human bones, I am a bonfire of human bones
~ ~ (repeat A - E -) ~ ~
And am I under some spell?
And do my thoughts belong to me?
Or just some slogan I ingested to save time?
This night is missing people
The sea, it had no-one
Hardly no-one, it had shapes, it had light
Some were flashing, most moved
Me, I couldn't look away
But still no-one came or left they just stayed
But they weren't there in the first place
Overpopulated by nothing, crowded by a sparseness
Guided by darkness, too much, not enough
Content, that's what you'd call it
An infant screaming in every room in your gut
Bets strum on an intention but best left unattended
How gathered the pixels in the dust of the digital age to our being
With what do I wash?
Put on some music
My friend walks the same path every day
Steep the stairwell, cognizance to coma
Ignoring best he can
An inconvenient reality
The consequential chore that unfolds in the naked sprint from screen to screen
Scrolling binary ghettos for escape for reminders
And this would be a good idea to free poets
From the back padding dungeons of content and comments
To free artists from empty and vulgar broadcasting ritual
For this year it became harder to be tender
Harder and harder to remember
Meeting a friend, writing a letter
Being lost, antique ritual
All lost to the ceremony of progress
Like the sensual organs removed
They're only weighing you down, you didn't need them
Ignore this part, it's an advertisement
These people are famous, I'd trust them
Protesters stayed home this time around
Some enlisted, some never heard the first shots
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
E* A
Well I've been north and I've been south, I've been west and I've been east
E* A
Been around long enough to know, life's lived best when scrolling least
E* A
Just a broken piece of plastic, just another new device
E* A
Just another nervous habit, one more thing you have to buy
E* A
Just one more thing to replace, one more way to block your face
E* A
Too much data, too much tension, life's lived least when less is mentioned
E* A
Wasting dollars, wasting hours, wasting talent with wasted power
E* A
No one says it but it's known, the more connected, the more alone
E* A
My friend stays at the home in the dark, never walks up to the park
E* A
Always nauseous, always tired, I am a landmine, wrong supplier
E*
I am a landmine